


Three for Mary Sue

by gritsinmisery



Series: What do you do with a Mary Sue? [3]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe, Anachronistic, Crack, M/M, Mary Sue, POV Third Person Omniscient, Self-Insert, Slurs, Snark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-01-31
Updated: 2010-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-06 21:49:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gritsinmisery/pseuds/gritsinmisery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuation of Fifth Doctor AU.  WIP, currently stopped at a logical point, but probably never completed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A quiet beginning

**Author's Note:**

> If you hated Mary Sue and Mary Sue Too! or you can't stand self-inserts (even as a joke), don't read this. D'uh.
> 
> AU set post-_Logopolis_, with no Tegan, Nyssa, or Adric.
> 
> The Fourth Wall is not only broken, but smashed to bits.
> 
> Jade speaks a horrid mix of U.K. and U.S. English.
> 
> Btw, racial slurs for the Romany people are used. The author knows better; the characters do not.

This is The Eye of Orion. It's a nice little planet. The Doctor's TARDIS is parked in a place that looks a lot like Surrey or Hampshire in the summer, when the sun comes out after a rainstorm. I imagine that if you knew which way the closest seashore was and headed in that direction, it'd look a lot like Dorset. There's a reason the Doctor thinks it's so wonderful here, y'know.

The TARDIS is parked at the top of a long rise overlooking a peaceful river valley. Turlough is perched on a rock just below that, sketching (just like the start of _The Five Doctors_, yes.) Jade has strung a rope hammock between two tall deciduous trees just off to the side and she's making full use of it, with the Doctor's current hat over her face to ward off any dapples of afternoon sunshine that might work their way through the branches above as time passes and the planet rotates. A small square table and three chairs occupy a level area between them, holding the remains of what might have been a cream tea, or maybe that was a light luncheon. You want the British version of idyllic? Baby, they've got it.

The Doctor steps out of the TARDIS without his jacket, wearing leg pads and carrying a ball and bat. He offers up a question so hackneyed and trite that I refuse to type it.

Turlough holds up his half-finished sketch. "I need to rough this in before I lose this light," he announces. "I have to beg off." Jade doesn't even bother to move.

The Doctor strides over to the hammock and snatches his hat off her face with a triumphant, "Ah-hah, that's where it went!" Jade opens one eye and proceeds to prove wrong everyone who thinks you need both eyes open to glare.

"Come on then, Jade. You've been lying in that hammock for the better part of three days now. Up you get." The Doctor is disgustingly chipper in his announcement.

She just closes her one open eye and throws an arm across her face to replace the hat. "I can't bat or bowl, and I'm sure as hell not chasing the ball at my age. I thought we were here on holiday… Y'know, rest and relaxation? I'm relaxing."

"If you were any more relaxed, you'd be comatose. Honestly, you'll have permanent rope imprints in your skin." The Doctor offers that final repost and turns away, because her body language pretty much indicates that he's been dismissed.

Turlough's attention is caught by something down in the valley. "Doctor? Do they have Travelers here?" he asks.

"What?" The Doctor is puzzled. Hey, they're travelers, and they're here.

"Travelers. Tinkers. Gypsies. Romany. Pavees. Nomadic tribes, outside of regular society. There's a caravan of brightly painted wagons trundling down the valley. On Earth, that would be Travelers. Or tourists, pretending to live like them." Turlough's standing now, watching the caravan's progress.

The Doctor walks over to join him. After a couple of minutes of watching he replies, "Well, I guess they must do. I've never seen them before, but I don't get here much and I tend to land up here and keep to myself." The Eye of Orion is such a peaceful place; there's never been a crisis for him to go barging into.

There's a village at the far end of the valley; the wagons pull out of line and stop just outside of it, creating a camp. A few tarps are set up for shade, and cooking fires are started. The Doctor and Turlough can just barely make out the residents of the village heading for the camp. Since the camp doesn't start breaking up a few minutes after the locals arrive there, the Travelers must be welcome.

"D'you think they're selling crafts?" asks Turlough.

"It's likely," replies the Doctor. "I doubt they'd get that many locals just going to say hello. Are you considering a visit?"

"Yes… yes, I think I am. Jade, are you up for a shopping trip?" Turlough calls over to her.

"How far away are they?" she asks. She's been listening, even though she hasn't moved.

The Doctor can't resist a little dig at her. "Maybe a mile. Can you handle a fifteen-minute walk? There's an easy path down just the other side of the rise. Or is that not relaxed enough for you?"

Jade rolls out of the hammock. "No need to take the piss just because I wouldn't toss a ball at you. I presume we have currency available for this planet – I don't think Travelers will be accepting assurances that we have a line of credit at the local banking institution." She straightens her outfit while speaking.

The Doctor goes back into the TARDIS for a minute, and reappears with a bag full of coins. "You two go on ahead," he says genially. "That hammock looks really inviting. I think I'll have a little nap." He proceeds to avail himself of it, assuming exactly the position Jade had, right down to his hat over his face.

"An elaborate ruse," proclaims Jade. "So much for Mr. 'Up you get,' Mr. 'Anyone for –'"

"Don't finish it," interrupts Turlough. "Let's just go."


	2. In which Lost things are Found

The yellow, round-roofed wagons parked in the flat field stand out against the backdrop of the neutral-colored village behind them.  The wagons' doors, sides, and trim are decorated with stylized birds and flowers in bright red, blue, green, and black.  Although they seemed to be parked in no particular fashion from the ridge above, from the road to the village Turlough and Jade can see that the shade-providing awnings are set up in a sort of meandering line, the tables underneath forming a make-shift marketplace with one "stall" leading to the next.

The wares on display range from the simple to the ornate, from the useful and everyday to the merely decorative.  A stall with smooth hand-carved [treenware](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Treen_%28wooden%29) sits next to a display of bent-wire jewelry with elaborate whorls holding polished stones left in their natural shapes.  A true tinker has fire and tools at the ready, working through a line of village women holding pots and pans with their handles come adrift.  One stall has side curtains and a sign advertising fortunes told; another pair of tables have cooking fires behind them, wonderful smells issuing forth although it's still too soon after making camp for the food to be done.

Turlough has stopped at a table holding simple wooden plaques with painted designs similar to those adorning the wagons.  He and the artist are quietly discussing pigments, the symbolism and history of the designs, and the price of a particularly pretty round piece resembling a bright rose window.  It's amazing to listen to – there's no whine in his voice, and he sounds quite intelligent.  The fellow really should be in an arts academy someplace, not drifting around aimlessly in space.  An idle mind truly is the Black Guardian's workshop.

Jade is slowly wandering down the line of tables, running her fingers along the edges, trying to stay within sight of Turlough but increasingly bored by the closest displays.  She has no idea why she's staying close; they're both adults – well, she certainly is anyway – and capable of taking care of themselves.  They just haven't arranged a meeting place should they get separated, but honestly, this camp isn't really that big.  Finally she calls over her shoulder, "I'm going further down," and he makes a shoo-ing motion with one hand, not even bothering to interrupt his conversation.

A pair of coiled copper earrings holding deep green stones catches her eye, and she bargains the price down by about a quarter.  She knows she could have had them for half the initial price or less, but she really can't be bothered with bargaining and she figures the artist certainly needs the money.  There are people in front of the tinker's shop and the treenware booth, but none looking at the jewelry.  Apparently this village is not much given to purchasing fripperies.

As she finishes paying, she hears the sound of a stringed instrument being plucked.  Looking up eagerly she spies a table full of guitars, violins, mandolins, dulcimers, and the like at the far end of the line of awnings.  She hurries down, fastening on the earrings as she walks.

Oh, the instruments are beautiful.  Grains are matched on the seams; the lacquering is deep and glossy.  Edges are inlayed with contrasting woods; sound holes are cut in fanciful shapes.  Bridges are intricate, almost delicate-looking; pegs are carved in whorls or into animal heads.  Simply as a piece of art each is wonderful, but Jade is willing to bet they sound as beautiful as they look.  She turns a dulcimer the proper direction, picks up the pick and fretting-stick next to it, and plucks a string.  
   
"Do you play, Daughter?" asks a male voice from the back of the stall, up against the wagon.  She can't see him; he's too deep in the shadows.  The only thing visible is a flash of light off the face of the guitar he's holding; presumably what she heard being played earlier.

"A bit, Grandfather," she answers, trusting the TARDIS to translate it into a proper honorific.  "And nothing worthy of these gorgeous instruments."

"Go ahead then, Little One.  It has no life unless it is allowed to sing."

Running the pick across all four strings, she determines [the tuning](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mountain_dulcimer#Strings_and_tuning).  She starts off with _The Eighth of January_ then moves right into _Jesse James_, then _The Four Marys_ and _The Cherry Tree Carol_, then stops and looks around.  There are more villagers at this end of the line of stalls now, and the two women selling brightly embroidered linens at the table next to her smile encouragingly.

"This one's in Aeolian.  No need to re-tune."  Jade startles and whirls to find the stall's proprietor on the other side of the table, holding up another dulcimer for her to play.

He's older, long gray hair pulled back into a thick queue, neatly trimmed gray beard framing a strong mouth and jaw.  He's not very tall for a male, but there's still something powerful about him.  Maybe it's that he's dressed all in black – loose, silky shirt, laces open at the neck; a fringed sash wrapped around the hips of form-fitting trousers; and tall leather boots – or maybe it's the intense gaze of his blue-gray eyes under dark brows.  
   
"Ah.  Thank you."  Jade takes the new dulcimer from him, and he moves the one she's been playing so she can set the new one down.  She studies his face while he does it, then smiles.  "Aeolian.  Something older, then?" she asks, and plays a couple of verses of _Lord Lovell_ before starting on _Greensleeves_.

When she finishes she looks up at the man selling instruments, acknowledging the smattering of applause around her with nothing but a smile.  He smiles back at her and asks, "So, have you found what you were looking for?"

"I'm not quite certain," Jade replies.  She's ready to play the game.  "I've always been fond of the figure-eight shape, but all of these are teardrop-shaped."  She raises an eyebrow at him.

"Ah, these are for the local market.  But I think you're a bit of a traveler yourself, aren't you?  I may have just what you're seeking in my wagon.  Would you care to take a look, pet?"

Before she can answer, Turlough comes sliding to a stop next to her.  "Was that you playing?  Why don't you ever play anything for us?  I didn't think you did anything musical except sing off-key."

Jade turns, blinks at him for a moment, then replies, "One – yes.  Two – I don't have any instruments with me.  Three – … phbbt."

"So, are you going to buy one?" he asks brightly.  
   
Jade grabs him by the shoulder (she nearly uses his ear) and hauls him about six feet away from the table.  Pulling his face close to hers, through clenched teeth she answers, "I was _considering_ it, then you came crashing in like a damned eager puppy.  Now I won't be able to bargain him down to a reasonable price; he knows he can stick with a high one because I want an instrument.  Thanks _ever_ so much.  Did I bother you while you were with the painter?  No.  Now go find something to do somewhere else.  Are the food vendors open yet?  Make yourself useful and go get us something to eat.  The smells are killing me; I'm starving."  She gives him a shove back down the line of awnings towards the food.

"Fine."  Turlough stomps off, glowering. 

Jade walks back to the instrument seller.  "Pardon my friend.  He's a bit impetuous, but easily distracted.  Now, I believe you had something you wanted to show me?"

"Indeed."  The man takes her elbow to lead her to the steps at the back of the wagon.  Glancing over at her, he says conversationally, "The earrings suit you."  
   
"They don't quite match the cat," she replies.  Looking him up and down, she adds, "The Romany look suits you."  
   
"Thank you."  He opens the door to the wagon and lets her step in.  "There's only one match for the cat."

"I'm aware of that."  She walks over to the black console of his TARDIS and strokes the edge.  "Hi, sweetheart.  Did you miss me?"


	3. In which they Act like an Old Married Couple

The Master is seated at the main workstation for the TARDIS console.  He's watching the information on the screen; the rotor is going up and down because we're in flight.  He glances over at Jade, who is seated about a quarter of the way around the console, her arms crossed, her eyes glued to the pumping time rotor.  He types in something and drops a lever with a flourish (never mind that he actually did nothing to adjust their course.)  She doesn't look at him.  He clears his throat and says, "That should do it."  She resolutely refuses to take the conversational bait, much less glance at him.

Right, then.  He came after her, didn't he?  The silent treatment is getting a little annoying.  "Do you want to know what happened, or would you rather just work up a nice pout imagining the worst?" Ooh, where have we heard that line before?  (Hint: Mary Sue Too! Chapter Five.)

"I'm not pouting."  She still doesn't look at him.  Okay, now we've established that she's perfectly capable of uttering a bald-faced lie, as well as indulging in a good sulk when the mood strikes her.

"I didn't abandon you, you know."

"Of course you did.  I wouldn't expect anything else from you.  I wasn't surprised or upset by it."  She gives him a very mild look, almost serene.  Well, at least she's talking to him, right?

Wrong.  She's impugning his caretaking, his pet-ownership cred, if you will.  He actually hauled off and did something semi-noble and a teeny bit dangerous by going back for her, and now she doubts him.  Hang on, he's gonna get a little snippy, I'm afraid.

"I didn't!  But you couldn't be bothered to wait and see if I'd come for you.  Oh no, first chance you get, you're off to the Doctor.  'Oh Doctor, save me, the evil Master's abandoned me.'  Faithless.  Disloyal."  He's nearly hissing at the end of that speech.

Jade's a bit surprised.  She knows he's prone to lie through his teeth and play on emotions, but he does seem genuinely upset.  And she did run to the Doctor when she was in trouble…

But hang on!  Abandoning everyone he's with when trouble appears is the Master's usual _modus operandi_.  And who was left to deal with the frightened servants and duck the local militia?  She was. Stranded without a way off-planet, in the middle of a military operation; Number Two on the most-wanted list right behind Mister Evil himself.  She considers herself damned lucky that the Doctor was there and willing to save her a second time.

She's also just as willing as the Master to strike out when put on the defensive.  "Oh no you don't!  This is not going to be about me.  You scarpered to save your arse the minute the militia knocked on the front door.  You can't say a damned thing about me doing the same.  I'm sorry if it gets up your nose that it was the Doctor that got me out of there, but any port in a storm, y'know?"  She's out of her chair, next to his workstation, nearly in his face.

"I told you trouble was coming that morning.  I couldn't very well help you if I was rotting in local cell, could I?" the Master pronounces smugly.  He got her to move, and to feel guilty too, or she wouldn't be attacking.

"I hardly consider leaving me to dodge the locals 'helping' me," Jade replies matter-of-factly, raising her eyebrows.

He's tired of being accused of that.  "Rassilon!" he snarls, and turns back to the computer screen.  He punches in new coordinates and smacks the Enter key.  Nothing happens.  After a second, the Master glowers in anger.  "You will if you want her to stay!" he's mad enough to say both out loud and telepathically, and smacks the key again.  The time rotor pauses, the TARDIS shudders, shifts, and the rotor starts pumping again.

About fifteen minutes later, the rotor slides to a halt.  Jade's back in her seat, where she resumed her previous silent fascination with the rotor's movement.  When the Master activates the outside view screen, she glances over at it.  The scene seems somewhat familiar, but a little skewed.

The Master turns to her.  "We're on Persephone.  Our former next-door-neighbors have just acquired a new garden shed."  He throws the lever for the TARDIS's outside door.  "Walk out that door, over to the fence, and if you value your life do not move a muscle or say a word for the next five minutes, or you will discover what a Reaper is and what they eat for lunch."

Jade slides out of her seat and silently heads for the door.

"Oh, girl – take a mac.  It's going to rain."

Standing against the fence, Jade watches her four-days-younger self dash down the garden path to the Doctor's TARDIS as the rain comes down.  As the blue box disappears, a garden shed looking exactly like the one she just stepped out of materializes.  The Master pokes his head out, calls her name, stares for a moment at the spot where the police box used to be, issues a quiet evil laugh, and goes back in.  The shed disappears as well.

The Master is sitting facing the door – arms crossed, an expectant look on his face – as she comes back into the TARDIS.  I'll bet he's looking for an apology.  I don't think he's going to get one; they wouldn't get on so well together if she were that nice. 

Jade stops, crosses her arms to match his, and tilts her head to one side.  A one-sided grin appears on her face, and she shakes her head.  "If you aren't more careful," she drawls, "I'm gonna think you like me."

"Perish the thought," he replies, spinning his chair back around to the console and throwing the lever to close the front door.  "You're dripping on my floor." Now that she can't see his face he grins too, and sets the TARDIS back on its original course.  Apparently that was close enough to an apology for him.

That's the second time Jade's been fussed at for getting wet from the same damn rainstorm. It gets old, and she tries for a bit of her own back.  "By the way," she remarks as she heads for the interior of the TARDIS to dispose of the wet coat she's removing, "hang on to that Romany outfit.  You might want to use it next time you run into your part-time shag.  If a Romany looking like that kidnapped _me_, I'd never think about going home."

"Pet!" he calls after her, and waits until she stops and turns.  Looking down at the console screen once he knows he has her attention, he offers up, "One did." 

Waiting a beat, he glances back up, one eyebrow raised.  She's obviously gob-smacked.  Perfect.


	4. In which a Meeting is Arranged

"Doctor!  Doctor!"  Calling out wildly, Turlough comes running headlong up the path from the village.  When he reaches the ridge where the TARDIS is sitting, he stops to catch his breath and looks around, eyes wide.  The table and chairs are gone, as is the hammock where Jade has attempted to become one with the webbing for the last three days.  Other than the trampled grass and the TARDIS itself with its door standing wide open, there's no evidence that three sentient beings have more-or-less inhabited the spot for a few days.

All this just adds to his bewilderment, so he shakes his head and resumes his flight toward the TARDIS, finally stumbling through the open door.  "Doctor?  Doctor!"

"Ah, there you are."  The Doctor glances up briefly from the far side of the console, where he's working with some sort of display.   Oh, look – he's started wearing his glasses.  Don't they make him look serious?  "I received a distress signal from a nearby planet about 20 minutes ago, and I've had time to pack up completely while waiting for you.  Tell Jade to get in here; we need to leave."

Turlough gasps, "That's just it, Doctor – Jade's gone!  She's been taken by one of the Traveler folk!"  He's half bent-over, hands on his knees, trying to slow his breathing.  His face is a deeper red than his hair, which is sweaty and stuck down to his head.

The Doctor slides his glasses down his nose just enough so he can stare at Turlough over the top rims.  We all know that's the main reason he wears them.  "Oh honestly, Turlough!  Did you just say Jade's been stolen by Gypsies?"

Holding one hand out to stop a tirade, Turlough replies, "I know, I know.  It sounds ridiculous.  I left her with a musical instrument maker just long enough to go buy something to eat, and when I came back they were gone – Jade, the Traveler, his wagon – the lot!  And all anyone will say when I ask is, 'They are not here now,' rather enigmatically."

"Perhaps you had the wrong spot?  Got turned about?"  
   
"They'd have just pointed me to the right place then, don't you think?  They wouldn't have risked missing a sale."  He's finally standing straight again.

"Hmmm." The noise the Doctor makes is more non-committal than it is agreeable.  "I still think you've imagined this whole thing, but we'll pop down there and check it out, because I don't want to waste any more time traipsing about.  We really need to be going."  He throws the lever that shuts the front door, and spins the dial hard over that causes the TARDIS to dematerialize.

===##===

"Where are we going?"  Jade's leaning against the door jam of the entrance from the Master's black-walled console room to the rest of his TARDIS, arms crossed, one ankle crossed over the other.  She hangs out like that a lot, doesn't she? Stand up straight, woman.

The Master's busy at one of the workstations on his console.  Who knows what nefarious scheme he has hatching?  He doesn't bother to look up from his work, answering her in a rather distracted tone, "Oh, I haven't quite decided yet.  It doesn't matter, really."

There's a long pause, filled with the hum of the time rotor pumping and the Master's workstation keyboard clicking as he types.  Jade watches him for a bit, but it seems he's truly busy, rather than his standard tactic of feigning distraction to make others point out what he doesn't want to.

She sighs.  "He won't come after me, y'know."

Amazingly, the Master doesn't play innocent.  But he doesn't look up from his work, either.  "Of course he will.  His companion, spirited away by his adversary, possibly in mortal peril?  I can guarantee he dematerialized the second that ginger git spilled the beans, trusting that bucket of bolts he's stolen to somehow pick up the trail."  
   
"Mortal peril?" Jade snorts.  "The entire time I've spent with you, only time I've been in mortal peril was wondering if I'd learn to dance to your satisfaction before I dropped dead of exhaustion.  And I'm not his companion."  She's managed to keep her tone of voice conversational for that last bit, even though she felt like uttering it through clenched teeth.  She's very careful not to place any emphasis on the possessive, either.

"I could arrange a great deal of peril, if you'd like."  There's not an ounce of threat in the Master's voice, and his gaze when he looks up is benign.  He's simply maintaining his reputation as evil, which I think most of the time both of them seem to forget.  "Really, girl… You rescued him while he was regeneration-sick; he's hauled you out of a couple of war zones; he's even taken you to his favorite vacation spot.  I think you definitely qualify as a companion."

Jade just shakes her head ever so slightly in disgust.  Okay, so denial is not just a river in Africa for the Master…  "Nevertheless, he also sees me as someone who is quite used to taking care of herself while gallivanting across time and space.  Your quickest bet to seeing him is to go right back to when and where you picked me up, unless you really want to go through the same amount of time and work you did on Persephone to get his attention.  Besides, think about how much trouble Turlough will be in when the Doctor comes down to the village to investigate my 'disappearance' only to find me standing there wondering why he left."

"True…"  Occasionally, his pet comes up with a fun idea.  A little discord with his bothersome alien companions and the Doctor just might decide he could stand to be in the company of his own kind for a bit, specifically the company of the one who knows him best.  "How long do you think he ran around searching for you?"  
   
"Ten minutes tops; the camp's not that big."  Jade stands up straight and walks over to the console.  "Fifteen minutes and he'll be far enough back to the TARDIS he won't even hear us materialize.  I wouldn't go much longer than that, because if he ran all the way back and talked the Doctor into taking the TARDIS…"

"Very well."  The Master inputs the coordinates.  There's no obvious change in flight; this isn't the Doctor's TARDIS, y'know.


	5. In which Turlough's Brain is used as a Cat Toy

In a shady copse on the edge of a meadow, the familiar "vworp-vworp" can be heard (hey, even Auntie spells it that way) and a worn blue police box with a blinking light on top fades into existence.   A minute or so later the door opens and out steps a ginger lad in a blue-and-white striped shirt and very short tan shorts, followed by a taller blond man in cricket whites.

Their destination is an encampment of bright yellow Traveler wagons set up about halfway across the meadow, next to the edge of a village.  The two men cross the meadow arguing with each other, their voices rising to overcome being both outdoors and a bit breathless from their tramp.  This is the third time through the same "discussion" they've been having for the last 10 minutes, so we won't bother listening.

When they reach the camp and start down the awning-shaded line of sales tables, who should they see but Jade, instrument case at her feet, standing next to a food vendor's table and munching a fruit pie?

"Turlough," she calls around a mouthful, tucking bits of pie back into her mouth with a finger as they try to escape while she talks, "where did you go?  I sent you after take-away, not a Time Lord.  I finally gave up waiting on you and bought something for myself."  Her expression is a mix of curious and mildly aggravated.

"But… but… You were gone!" Turlough half stutters, half squeaks.  "You, the instrument maker, his wagon… nowhere to be found!"

"Oh, honestly!  You get turned around, can't find the stall, and go running to the Doctor?  What did you tell him, that Gypsies had stolen me?  Doctor, I think this one's imagination will get somebody into trouble some day."  Ooh, three sentences, three direct hits.  She's on a roll.

Turlough turns to the Doctor.  "I swear, I was right there.  This camp's not that big.  Everything was gone.  Even the other Travelers said they weren't here."  He's pleading; he looks a bit desperate.

The Doctor would be looking at Turlough over the top rim of his glasses if he had them on.  "Really?" he replies.  Then he turns to Jade, and just raises his eyebrows in a query.

She grins at him.  Her expression admits everything her words don't: that she's winding Turlough up.  She looks back to Turlough, waves her empty hand at the case at her feet, and sets another verbal hook.  "One dulcimer, sorted.  The wagon is down at the end of the camp where it was when you left me.  Look for yourself."  She shoves the last oversized bite of pie in her mouth and chews enthusiastically.

"Fine.  I shall," he mutters, and stamps off down the line of tables. 

Jade sets some coins on the pie vendor's table, holds up fingers requesting three more, hands one to the Doctor when they arrive, and scoops up her new instrument case in the hand not holding the other two.  She and the Doctor follow slowly in Turlough's wake, the Doctor chewing carefully on his hot fruit pie and looking appreciatively at the items for sale at the various tables.  Some of them are obviously made of found objects.  This pleases the being with trans-dimensional pockets and a habit of picking things up because "you never know when it might be useful."

When they reach him, Turlough's standing still, looking slightly dumbfounded at the sight of the luthier's table full of instruments and the wagon with its bright designs set up behind them.  The Traveler himself is not in sight.  Jade goes over and hands a pie to Turlough, who takes it with a slightly distracted air.  He puts it in his mouth, bites, and reacts sharply when he burns his mouth.  "Ow!  That's hot."

"You're welcome," replies Jade sarcastically, and turns back to the Doctor.  "See?  Everything's right here."  She shrugs and gestures toward the stall with the hand holding the last pie.

Turlough looks back at her and says determinedly, "I know you were gone."

"Do you?" she asks mildly and follows it with a grin that blatantly states, "Yeah, I'm not telling the whole truth, but you can't prove anything."

"Did you bring me new customers, Little One?"  The door to the wagon is opened.  We can barely see the black-clothed luthier standing in it, and his face is still in shadow.

"I don't know that either of them play, Grandfather, although I think this one might," replies Jade, gesturing to the Doctor.  "I did bring you a fruit pie, though."

"You're a thoughtful pet," he says, coming down the wagon steps and over to the table full of instruments.  It's the same man Turlough saw before; same black knee boots, tight trousers, hip sash, and laced-necked shirt; same gray queue and neatly trimmed beard.

It's the Doctor's turn to look dumbfounded.  Gob-smacked, even.  His face is a little flushed, too.  I didn't feel it get any warmer, did you?  Apparently he did; he seems to be having a little trouble breathing.

The Traveler takes the last pie from Jade and he turns to the men.  "May I help you?"

Blinking hard, the Doctor struggles out of his fugue to answer.  "My friend here couldn't find you or Jade and became very upset.  He seemed to think you took her away from the camp."

"I had her inside my vehicle to show her a couple of things.  We were there for quite a while.  I wanted to make sure she was completely happy with her choice.  But here we both stand…  Perhaps your friend has an over-active imagination."  Eyes twinkling with mischief, the Traveler smiles broadly and takes a bite out of his pie.  When his tongue flicks out to catch a bit of berry filling that stuck to the corner of his mouth, the Doctor can be seen to swallow hard.

Jade gives up all pretense of innocence; she's grinning from ear to ear.  She was so very right about the costume, wasn't she?  Turlough looks back and forth among the three of them and goes from puzzled to angry at their various expressions.  "What's going on here?  Jade?  Doctor?"

"Hush, Turlough," the Doctor says with a distracted air, not bothering to look at him.  "Jade's fine.  You do go on so."

"You look warm.  Would you care to come inside for something cool to drink to wash down your pie?"  The luthier holds out one black-gloved hand to the Doctor, who walks slightly dazed around the end of the table to take it.

When Turlough goes to follow, Jade grabs him by the elbow and links arms with him.  "Not you, silly.  He's not the type to share.  Besides, I think you need an earring.  A small silver hoop maybe, nothing flashy.  I'm pretty sure the jeweler does piercing.  Now, finish your pie and let's go find him."  She starts walking him back down the line of tables.  Turlough cranes his neck to look behind at the two men walking toward the wagon, but lets Jade lead him away.  It's too easy, really, to mess with his mind.  Probably wrong, even.  Aw, who cares?  It's fun.  Just think of it as lending karma a helping hand.

The Doctor stops at the base of the wagon steps and looks up at the Master.  "I shouldn't."  There was some sort of emergency, wasn't there?

"Nonsense, my dear Doctor."  The Master's face shimmers, and his hair and beard return to their normal short, dark configuration.  "To the contrary; it's the best idea you've had in quite a while.  Come inside and let's explore some of the things I see flickering behind your eyes when you look at me."  A quick tug on their linked hands has the Doctor climbing the steps.

After throwing the lever that closes the outer door, the Master invades the Doctor's personal space and backs him into one of the black, roundel-covered walls.  Nose-to-nose, the Master inquires, "So, it seems you fancy being kidnapped and ravished by a Gypsy?"

The Doctor smiles down at him and places one finger at the base of the Master's throat, runs it down his chest over the loose leather laces of his shirt, and hooks it in the bottom of the V-neck opening, tugging slightly.  "This one? It seems I do."

"Good," replies the Master, who slips one hand behind the Doctor's head and pulls him down until their mouths meet.


	6. In Which Civility is Attempted

The Master awakens quite abruptly, and is just as suddenly aware of two separate facts: there is no one in bed with him, and there is a hot cup of tea on his nightstand.

He feels a stab of disappointment at the former, which he quickly suppresses.  There is absolutely no reason for him to expect otherwise; it’s just as it has been for the last few centuries.  So what if Jade had speculated some mellowing with time and regenerations?  Foolish human.  So what if last night had required no coercion, either physical or mental?  Although… he has to admit that seduction is a vastly different game plan from guilt or restraint, and strangely satisfying in its own way.  So what if it had been his bed rather than the Doctor’s?  There is no reason to expect the Doctor to do anything other than what he himself has been doing: setting a mental alarm to be gone before his bed partner awakens, rather than facing the morning after in the wrong bed.  A tiny voice inside him says he must have been expecting a different result, or he’d have set that alarm just to be out of sight when the Doctor woke, even if it is his bed and not the Doctor’s.  He mentally tosses bedroom slippers at the voice until it shuts up.

The cup of tea must mean that Jade is back in his TARDIS, and making some silly human gesture of comfort because she knows the Doctor has left.  He considers her gesture wasted, although far be it from him to do the same with the cuppa, so he has a sip.  Lapsang souchong?  Jade is strictly an English Breakfast drinker in the morning.  In fact, she considers it something approaching sacrilegious to have anything else before elevenses.  When he attempted to educate her about the many wonderful varieties of tea, she curtly informed him that she was well aware of them and enjoyed many of them, _but not for breakfast._ 

So, this is not from Jade.  The Doctor, then?  Perhaps it’s an apology for “shagging and scarpering,” as Jade so alliteratively put it.  Hmm, maybe there is hope of the Doctor mellowing, or maybe he’s just getting sentimental in his old age.  And unless it’s possible to develop acid indigestion from a single sip of tea, that funny feeling under his breastbone may mean the Master is, too.

Suddenly through his open bedroom door the Master hears what sounds like a hand slamming down on metal.  Then a _male_ voice swears.  In _Gallifreyan._  The Master’s eyebrows climb his forehead and he quickly climbs into his dressing gown.  It’s a soft, fluid fabric, a little fuzzy, a little clingy, almost caressing, and most importantly, black.  It’s the tenth identical one of its kind.  He pops back to the same shop every time he needs a new one, making certain to be exactly two months later on the shopkeeper’s timeline each time.  There’s always a new one held in the back for him.  A combination of tips and threats assures it.

The Master leans against the door jam of the console room, unconsciously mirroring what he sees Jade do nearly daily, and has another sip of tea.  The Doctor is at the main workstation on the console, typing furiously, flipping the occasional switch, and muttering, “C’mon, c’mon, I know it was there, you can do it.”  Obviously dissatisfied with the result, he slams his hand against the side of the workstation screen.

“Is there something I can help you with?” interjects the Master mildly.  Seriously, if this doesn’t stop soon the Doctor will do his hand an injury, and Rassilon knows the Doctor has very clever hands that the Master prefers remain uninjured.  Besides, his TARDIS doesn’t respond to percussive maintenance the way the Doctor’s Type-40 does.

The Doctor peers up a little guiltily over the top of gold-wire-rimmed half-glasses.  The Master successfully dampens his smirk at that affectation down to a pleasant smile of greeting.  When the Doctor takes in what the Master is – and therefore isn’t – wearing, his eyes get wide.  Taking off his glasses and holding them in both hands behind his back, he rocks back on his heels and shifts his gaze back to the screen.  “Yes, well, I was, um, hoping to obtain the information I need without bothering you.  Sorry.”

“Honestly, it’s no bother, I’m up.  What were you looking for?”  Trying to remain casual rather than appear suspicious, the Master walks over to stand next to the console.  He really, really tries for a stroll rather than a predatory stalk.  It’s not easy when you’ve spent your entire set of lives purposely injecting menace into your every step. 

Either he doesn’t exactly succeed, or the Doctor’s just feeling guilty.  The Doctor takes about a half step back before deciding to hold his ground because honestly, it isn’t sabotage.  “Before I came looking for Jade yesterday, I picked up a distress signal from this particular area.”  He pivots the screen so the Master can see.  “I was thinking since your TARDIS is a later model than mine, I’d have an easier time pinpointing the exact location.  But I can’t get it to pick up anything at all.”

“Hmmm, yesterday afternoon?  Did you set the temporal filter for that?” the Master inquires.  He pulls down a menu on the screen, types in the time differential, and taps Enter.  A blinking red light comes up on the map with an accompanying annoying “beep, beep.”

“Um, no.”  The Doctor looks down at the floor.  “I was thinking they’d still be broadcasting, I guess.”

“Well, either you’ve popped back along the timeline and rescued them already, or they’ve met their end, because they aren’t now.  I’m certain you’ll try for the former.”  The Master deftly zooms the map in on that section of space, so the Doctor can get a good look at the coordinates.  “Do you need me to take you?”  Now where did that come from?

“Erm, no, that won’t be necessary.  You’ve just awakened…” the Doctor demurs hastily.

The Doctor is right, and the Master is afraid he’s starting to behave in a manner so out of character that the Doctor will soon either bolt screaming or lock him up.  “Very well.”  Now, what does one say in these circumstances?  The two of them are horribly out of practice.  “Be careful.”  Oh, Rassilon, that doesn’t sound right.  It’s too late to take it back, though.

The Doctor blinks at him, looking bewildered.  “I’ll… try.”  He backs very slowly toward the outer door and looks around, as if trying to find some place else to look, or something else to talk about.  “Thank you.  For the information, I mean.”  He doesn’t really seem to want to leave, does he? 

The Master quickly squashes the urge to smirk again.  For somebody who hasn’t made it through his first cup of tea yet, he’s spent a lot of time doing that this morning.  And after all that practice in the mirror to get his smirk just right, too.  “You’re welcome.  Thank _you_ for the tea.”  He raises his cup in salute, and also one eyebrow to indicate that there was more than tea involved.  There.  The innuendo was far more his normal style.  His robe gaping open at the chest is an accident.  Honestly.

The Doctor visibly swallows.  “You’re welcome.”  His bum hits the door, which the Master opened from the console while he was backing toward it.  “I guess… good-bye.”

The Master lets him get all the way out the door before calling, “Doctor?”

“Yes?”  The Doctor pops his head back around the door, far too quickly.

“Jade?” asks the Master, and really, really, _really_ has to look down at the console to school his features when the Doctor’s face falls.  _Oh, my dear Doctor…_  When he thinks he has a reasonably bland countenance, he glances back up.  “Are you taking her with you?”  
   
“Um, if she wishes to come, I guess.”  It’s pretty obvious that companion arrangements are not what the Doctor has on his mind.  “I mean… she is quite handy at keeping the old girl going, as well as other things…”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” drawls the Master, reminding the Doctor just whom has had her traveling with him the most.  “It’s just that I still have her tools.”

“I can take them to her, if you’d like,” the Doctor offers.

The Master looks a bit put out.  “She can come get them herself.”  Knowing the Doctor, he’ll chuck the toolbox at her and say something that’ll lead her to assume the Master tossed her out.  Though it’s probable she’ll come read him the riot act for blowing hot and cold and he can set her straight, there is the chance that she’ll just hide in the Doctor’s TARDIS and sulk, and he isn’t risking it.

“It’ll take a few minutes,” says the Doctor, meaning for him to get to his TARDIS and for her to get back here.

The Master just rolls his eyes and gestures the Doctor back to the console.  “Fine, get in.  Where’d you park that bucket of bolts?”  He throws up a map of the field and town and surrounding area on the console workstation screen.

“There,” the Doctor points.  In less time than it takes to type “The time-rotor says vworp-vworp,” there’s a yellow Traveler wagon parked next to a blue police box in the copse on the edge of the field.


	7. In Which we Establish Who is with Whom

“Luuucy, I’m hoooome!” Carrying her duffle bag, Jade walks into the Master’s TARDIS, bellowing cheerfully.

The Master appears in the doorway from the console room to the rest of the TARDIS.  “Excuse me?  Who?  What?”  He manages to sound supercilious and disapproving.  “Oh.  It’s you.”  He lifts his chin and looks down his nose at her.  The chin lift really isn’t necessary; she’s a good deal shorter than he is.  
   
Jade is sufficiently deflated by his demeanor.  “Um, obscure 20th-century Terran television reference.  Never mind.  The Doctor said you wanted to see me?  I took the liberty…” She swings her duffle, stopping in mid-sentence when she sees her toolbox sitting on the floor between the TARDIS console and the outer door.  She looks up at the Master, unsure of the situation.  “Um.  Am I going somewhere?”  
   
“I’ve been on Earth occasionally during the back half of that century.  Avoided that entertainment medium like the proverbial plague.”  The Master walks over to the main workstation on the console, and begins inputting information.  “You have a decision to make.  The Doctor is off on some hare-brained rescue mission; he picked up some distress beacon yesterday and feels obligated to respond.  He has allowed that you are quite handy with such things and he’ll have you along if you’re so inclined.

“I feel no such obligation, nor am I inclined to vegetate on this rock any longer.  You don’t strike me as the sort to settle down here, but you may if the mood moves you.  Otherwise, you need to choose your ride off-planet.”  The Master’s gaze flickers upward at Jade for a half-second, then back down to the workstation.

Jade just stands there, blinking.  She chews her lower lip.  Then she squints a bit and tilts her head to one side, hands on her hips, willing the Master to look back up.  He assiduously avoids doing so.  A-ha.

“Our bargain?” she queries.

He still doesn’t look up.  There’s no emotion in his voice.  “I consider fulfilled.  You are under no obligation.”

Oooo-kay.  Mister Evil is just gonna let her walk out that door.  After chasing her halfway across the universe and dragging her back again for a five-minute visit to prove he hadn’t abandoned her in the first place.  This is a test.

“Well, hell,” she drawls.  “I just got all my gear back in one spot for the first time since we hit Persephone.  I am ‘disinclined,’” and she puts enough emphasis on that word that you can hear the quotation marks around it, “to pick up and move it again.  So I guess I’ll stay put.”

“The Doctor will be disappointed.”  The Master’s delivery is deadpan, but behind the shield of the workstation screen, one corner of his mouth twitches upward.

“I daresay this ranks way down on his centuries-long list of serious disappointments.  Y’know, he didn’t look surprised, much less upset, when I walked out the door carrying my bag.”  Jade doesn’t bother to hide her smirk.  “In fact, he looked – oh, never mind.”  She shuts up quickly when the Master does look up, warning her with a glare that she really oughtn’t to elaborate on the state of the Doctor’s countenance this morning.   It’s one thing to boff your boyfriend silly, it’s another completely to have all and sundry commenting on just how incredibly gob-smacked he looks.  “I’ll just put this away, shall I?” she finishes, gesturing at her bag and toolbox.  
   
“Help yourself,” the Master replies, and throws the lever to seal the outer door.  When she heads back into the TARDIS, he dematerializes the ship.  
   
==##==  
   
Watching the yellow Traveler wagon dematerialize from the open door of his own TARDIS, the Doctor looks quite satisfied.  He was prepared to sort things out if push had come to shove, but is happier staying out of it.


	8. In Which Good Deeds are Performed

The coordinates given by the Master are good, and the Doctor materializes his TARDIS on board a cargo ship drifting in space about five minutes (on their timeline) after he first picked up their distress beacon. Turlough sticks his head out the front door, pronounces it a Trion vessel, predicts that their navigational circuitry has probably been wiped when they passed too close to some magnetic anomaly because they have crap shielding, announces he is _persona non grata_ with that civilization, and immediately disappears back into the labyrinthine depths of the TARDIS, leaving the Doctor to wonder once again just who the hell Turlough really is, and to deal with the situation by himself.

A brief discussion with the crew reveals that they have indeed lost all navigational ability, and that they are well aware their shielding is worthless. The recent _coup_ in their home system ended with most of their civilization's scientists and engineers either dead or imprisoned, and nobody is working on the problem nor will they be for the foreseeable future, so space-going vehicles just have to take their chances. They'd be ever so grateful if the Doctor could find some way to reinstall their navigation computer's information rather than leave them to drift helplessly in space; if he could rig up some shielding so it doesn't happen again that would be just brilliant; and no, they aren't the slightest bit interested in chasing him down the ship's corridors while contemplating grievous bodily harm to his person. He can't decide whether to be flattered, insulted, or just relieved.

The Doctor moves his TARDIS to the command deck and is standing just outside the open doors with several large cables in his hands contemplating how in Rassilon's name he's supposed to do this reinstall when he needs to be in two places at once, when he hears a time rotor. A magnetic tape drive (yes, just like in _Time Monster_) appears on the far wall, and the Master steps out, followed by Jade. 

What? Who did you think it would be? Flavia?

The Doctor raises his eyebrows interrogatively. The Master rolls his eyes and tips his head toward Jade. Jade pulls a face at the Master, then turns and shrugs at the Doctor. This lot has been hanging around together too long, I think.

"Ah, good. I need help," announces the Doctor. 

Jade and the Master exchange a '_There's_ a large surprise' look. "Where's the ginger git?" asks Jade.

"Turlough? Hiding. Apparently he doesn't get along with this lot. Strange; they seem to be a perfectly nice bunch to me." The Doctor looks puzzled for a minute then remembers the cables in his hand. "Anyway, I need to upload my navigational information to their computer; they apparently had rather too close a brush with a pulsar that completely defragged them. But once I get the physical link connected, it takes someone on both computers to synch them together. And I promised them I'd have a look around to see if I could fix it so this doesn't happen again."

Jade and the Master exchange another look. This time it says 'Bit off more than he can chew. Again.'

"I'll eyeball their set-up and then scrounge your TARDIS for parts for shielding, if you trust Mister Evil to help link the nav-comps," volunteers Jade, cocking a thumb in the Master's direction.

The Doctor and the Master trade raised eyebrows. The Doctor's are dubious; the Master's, challenging.

After a good long stare, the Doctor caves. "I suppose it'll be alright."

"Your trust overwhelms me, Doctor," drawls the Master.

"Gentlemen!" admonishes Jade. "Behave. Now, where's the captain?" she inquires.

The Doctor waves a hand toward one of the room's exits. "Try the engine room. Stern. Straight back."

"Right, I'm off. You boys play nice." Jade shakes a finger at them.

"You'll lose that digit, girl," growls the Master. Jade just snorts as she leaves.

The Doctor watches her walk out, then turns back to the Master. "Right, then. Hook these up?" He holds out the cables and points to a panel underneath the navigator's station, close to the floor.

"Surely you jest," replies the Master, sweeping one black-gloved hand down his black velvet outfit.

The Doctor sighs drops the cables in the Master's hand. "Fine, pass them to me while I do it, then. Damned impractical costume," he mutters, dropping to the floor and popping off the panel. He lies on his back and slides his head inside the console.

"Says the man wearing cream-colored clothing. You'll have to change your jacket and trousers when you get up from there. And shall we discuss that scarf you kept tripping over last go-round? Besides, this fabric feels really good. Don't think I don't notice you brushing a hand over me every time you get close. Hmm?" The Master prods the Doctor's hip with a toe.

"Mmph," replies the Doctor in a non-committal tone, and sticks out a hand. "Red lead." The Master passes the correct cable down, and doesn't press the subject.  
   
After listening to a bit of clanging and an indrawn hiss of a breath when the Doctor obviously stuck a finger way too close to some live electrical connection, the Master calls down, "Doctor?"  
   
"Ouch. Green lead. Hmm?" comes out of the console, along with a hand.

The Master obliges. "Do your companions ever get… moody?"

"All the bloody time. Biggest lot of whiners and sulkers… Wait, not Jade?"

"Um-hum," affirms the Master with a nod.

The Doctor pulls himself out of the console and assures the Master smugly, "Not possible. She has two modes – amused and disgusted – both detached, with extra sarcasm as needed. She might occasionally get serious, but moody? I don't think." He tugs at the cable still dangling from the Master's hand, and the Master lets go.

After he watches the Doctor slide back inside the console, the Master says, "My TARDIS made rain for her. And a window for her to stare out into it. She sat, unmoving, and watched it for an hour."

The lack of sound coming out from under the console is deafening. Finally, the Doctor asks, "Did she say why?" and resumes his work.  
   
"I presume by 'she' you mean the girl, and not the TARDIS. When I inquired, all she said was that she was feeling her years, and that it would pass. Sounded like an evasion to me." The Master crosses his arms over his chest and looks a bit perturbed.

"You of all people would recognize evasion. So did you go in after the real reason?" There's a bit of accusation in the Doctor's voice, even though the console muffles it.

The Master snorts. "That's because I've been dealing with you for centuries. And no, I didn't."  
   
Sliding back out of the console, the Doctor gives the Master such an incredulous look that the latter stirs uncomfortably and looks away. "Okay, I do plan to. Next time she goes to sleep; it just happened today." Then he mutters something else unintelligible.

"I didn't quite catch that last bit?"

"I said, 'That's why we're here.' I thought it'd snap her out of it have something to fix." The Master very pointedly does not look at the Doctor as he repeats himself.

Jade's got him hook, line, and sinker. The Doctor allows a look of fondness to flit across his face very quickly before the Master might catch it.

"Also…" the Master continues, still looking away.  
   
"Yes?"  
   
"You've been dealing with these creatures for ages. I thought you might be able to interpret her answer." The Master goes for 'mildly curious' in the look he gives the Doctor. It might as well have been 'helplessly all at sea', because the Doctor knows better.

The Doctor grabs the edge of the station counter with both hands and pulls himself to his feet. While he dusts off his bum he replies, "Assuming it is just an evasion, and not an outright lie, I'd guess she's being introspective. If she's lucky, she's not quite halfway through her lifespan; if she's very unlucky in her genetics then she may have only two decades left."

"Ephemeral, humans. Yet you keep them around almost constantly." Holding up one hand and making the 'turn around' motion with his index finger, the Master dusts off the back of the Doctor's jacket when the latter obliges. If he's a little over-zealous brushing off the shoulders and the hips, the Doctor does not mention it.

Powering up the navigation computer, the Doctor explains, "'That which burns brightest, burns the shortest…' Their curiosity and energy lets them keep up with me." Turning back to the Master, he points to three toggles on the control board. "When I sing out from inside the TARDIS, flip all three of these at the same time." The Master nods curtly in understanding, and the Doctor goes back inside the blue telephone box.

"_You_ used to work to keep up with _me_," says the Master quietly.  
   
"What?" the Doctor calls out from inside the TARDIS.

"I said, 'What's taking so long?'" the Master raises his voice, and adds some sarcasm. "That's twice now. Are you going deaf?"

"No need for that, now. I do know when you're muttering; you do it often enough. On my mark – three, two, one – now!" The toggles on both control boards are flipped and the navigation computer hums to life.

The lights on the station indicate that the feed is uploading as the Doctor reappears at the Master's side. "Do you need me to take her?" he asks.

"Take her? Oh, Jade. No," the Master snorts a bit, "I can handle moody; I've had plenty of experience doing that, thank you very much." He cocks a knowing eyebrow at the Doctor. "I just hadn't seen it in her before, and wondered if you might know what her particular problem is."

The Doctor has on his gold half-moon glasses; he looks down at the Master over the top of them. "I was flighty; _you_ were moody. Humans have nothing on you at the Academy. But no, I've never seen Jade that way. She's usually too busy fixing something to sink into a funk. You were probably right to bring her here." 

At that the object of their conversation comes in the room at a trot, waves at them, leaps over the cables snaking out of the Doctor's TARDIS door and across the floor, and disappears inside that TARDIS. Both Time Lords follow her progress.

"You could just ask her, instead of violating her privacy while she sleeps," the Doctor observes.

"I've had enough evasions, thank you. Besides, _evil_, remember?" replies the Master in his most oily voice. Honestly, does no one care about his reputation?

"Yes, quite." The Doctor slips him a quick peck and disappears inside his TARDIS to help Jade with her search before the Master can grab him.


	9. In Which Some Things are Fixed and Others Broken

“Shielding?”  The Doctor is standing in the door of his TARDIS in his rolled-up shirtsleeves, coiling up the computer cables he used to upload information to the Trion ship’s navigation computer.  There’s a smudge of dust on his forehead, along with a few sweat-plastered strands of hair.  
   
“Installed and tested,” Jade replies from under the console.  She’s feeding him the cables as she detaches them.  The Master leans back against the nearby communications console with an amused expression, arms crossed, watching the other two work.   He still has his velvet jacket on, and it’s still pristine.

Not even looking up from the cables as he winds, the Doctor inquires, “My sonic?”

“Bugger.”  Jade pulls a face and scoots out.  Since she’s installed the shielding as well as crawled under the nav-comp, she's more sweaty and dusty than the Doctor.  Standing up, she reaches down into the leg pocket of her coverall and digs out the Doctor’s screwdriver.  “I was hoping you’d forget it,” she confesses, tossing it across the room to him.

He snags it out of the air quite easily with one hand.  It’s easier to hang onto than a cricket ball.  “Not likely.”

“Seriously, can’t you just build another one?  I could really use that.”  
   
The Doctor gets that look on his face that means he’s about to deliver a lecture.  We’ve all seen it before.  He stops coiling the cables and wags the sonic at her while he pontificates.  “There are a few things that no one except a Time Lord should own: a sonic screwdriver, a Vortex manipulator, a…”

She interrupts him, shaking her head.  “Don’t give me that look.  If I’d had one of those, I wouldn’t have needed you to haul me off-planet either time, now would I?  Besides, I don’t work for those people any more.  Don’t bother preaching to the choir.”  Looking at the Master out of the corner of her eyes, she asks, “How’s about a Tissue Compression Eliminator, then?”  Nothing like deflecting the disapproval away to ease the situation, is there?

“Girl…,” the Master growls at her, standing up straight and dropping his arms.  
   
The Doctor turns and stares at him.  “_No one_ should own one of those.  Seriously.”

“Well don’t think I’m handing it over to you,” the Master smirks at him.

“I’d toss it down the nearest rubbish chute.  And you should do the same.”  The Doctor is wagging his sonic at the Master now.  
   
The Master winces and puts up one gloved hand as if to block an attack.  “If you keep waving that thing in my direction… Honestly Doctor, I think it’s safer in Jade’s hands.”

The Doctor has the grace to look embarrassed and tucks the screwdriver in the hip pocket of his trousers – Jade and the Master exchange a ‘Remember where he put it’ glance – before continuing to coil up the cable.  “Yes, well… Are you certain I can’t tempt you to come along with me then, Jade?  There’s plenty of work to be done on the old girl, and you come in terribly handy in situations like this one.  Never a dull moment – what d’you say?”  He looks at her expectantly.

Jade’s smile is sliding dangerously into smirk territory as she contemplates the Doctor’s ‘innocent’ act.  That’s the second time in as many days that these two have attempted to play ‘pass the human, for her own good,’ and it’s rather obvious.  “Tempting as your offer is, Doctor,” she drawls sardonically, “I’ll have to give it a miss.  I’m getting rather tired of shifting my kit between your TARDIS and the Master’s, and something always seems to go missing.”  Honestly, have you ever managed to move without losing something?  Me neither.

The Doctor gives the Master the most fleeting of glances that Jade knows damn well means, ‘Well, I tried.’  “Right, then.  That’s the last of my gear; I’ll be off so Turlough can come out of his self-imposed confinement.”  He looks disconcerted for a moment, clearly uncertain as to the appropriate closing.  “Um, good-bye,” he finishes.

“I’ll see you later, Doctor,” responds the Master meaningfully as the blue phone-box door closes.  The TARDIS starts dematerialization, but visually it flickers rather than fades, and the usual ‘vworp, vworp’ is low and slow, like a recording being played back under speed.  “…or sooner?” he amends, puzzled, as it becomes completely solid again.

Jade and the Master look at each other in inquiry.  “Did you…?” she gets out first, pointing at the Doctor’s TARDIS.  There’s no accusation in her voice, just a simple question.  
   
He shakes his head, regret on his face.  “I never got in there; didn’t have an opportunity.  I thought it was you, pet,” he responds.

She wrinkles her nose but doesn’t bother sniping over the appellation.  Waving a hand around to indicate the Trion ship, she replies,  “Too busy fitting up this boat.  Figured you’d manage something on your own if you were interested.  Didn’t bother.”

The two of them stand side-by-side, arms crossed, heads tilted slightly, focused on the Doctor’s TARDIS.  They wait a while; give each other a look that says ‘What the hell is he doing in there?’ and wait some more.  Finally the door of the phone-box opens, and the Doctor leans out, looking quite sheepish.

“Is there a problem?” asks the Master, amusement evident in both his tone of voice and his expression.  He owes the Doctor several smirks that he’d suppressed during their first ‘morning after’ in centuries, and now seems as good a time as any to deliver them.

The Doctor clears his throat.  “Yes, well,” he hems.  “It seems the conduit between the Eye and the console has burnt out.  I’ve been meaning to replace it for some time,” where ‘some time’ in this case means at least a century but he’s not going to volunteer that, “but I don’t have a spare and haven’t been anywhere to obtain one.  You wouldn’t happen to have one, would you?”

The Master turns to Jade and raises an eyebrow.  She was the last one to work on either ship.  “Girl?”  
   
She squints slightly, a far-away look in her eyes as she mentally goes over the power configuration of the Doctor’s Type-40, amends it for all the jury-rigging he’s done over the centuries, then compares it to the Master’s stores, and – since she’s not above a little larceny and she figures they owe – the Trion ship’s supplies as well.   With a quick intake of breath she refocuses on the Master and shakes her head.  “Nope.”  Turning to the Doctor, she announces, “You’re grounded.”

The Doctor scowls, clearly displeased at her pronouncement.  Then his face brightens.  “Can you go get one?” he asks her eagerly.  
   
She screws up her face and shakes her head uncertainly.  “I wouldn’t want to try and match it from memory, especially not with your mods.  We might end up making half-a-dozen trips; trying not to cross our own timeline means you’re going to sit a while, and then there’s the time _we’ll_ be spending...”  Turning to the Master, she concludes, “We need to take him on board.”

“He’ll have to drop his shields…” answers the Master, and they both look over at the Doctor, waiting.

It’s fun to watch the Doctor’s face while he decides.  First there’s a bit of shock at being asked, then dejection when he realizes he hasn’t got much choice, calculation as he ponders how to keep himself and his ship safe while in the Master’s clutches, and finally resolution as he squares his shoulders and agrees.  “Just long enough for you to materialize around me.”

“Of course, my dear Doctor.  I would never think otherwise.”  The Master’s voice is oily-smooth with reassurance, his countenance serene.  But having known him for a while, both the Doctor and Jade know he only acts pleasant when he’s quite upset.  Jade rolls her eyes at what a total idiot the Doctor is when it comes to handling someone he’s known for centuries and, come to think of it, has been boffing quite regularly of late. 

The Doctor’s eyes widen to show that he’s realized his mistake and that he’s sorry for it, but the Master’s gaze hardens to announce that his apology is not accepted.  The Doctor’s gives him an equally hard look in return.  Looks like it’s ‘game on’ again...  Without a word, the Doctor steps back inside his TARDIS and slams the door closed.

The Master strides over to his TARDIS, opens the side panel of the ‘tape drive,’ and disappears inside without looking to see if Jade is following.  She’s right on his heels because she knows he’s angry enough to take off without her, not that she isn’t just about as mad at the two of them for tossing away so quickly what was so hard to build.  “Pig-headed, self-centered…” she mutters.

The ‘tape drive’ fades out with the usual noise and immediately comes back into view where the blue box was, but now can no longer be seen.  Then it fades out once more, leaving the Trion ship’s command deck empty of life, but fully functioning once more.


End file.
